


Girls' Night Out

by Djinnaat



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 23:19:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7074889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djinnaat/pseuds/Djinnaat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abbie is headed out for a girl's night out with Sophie and Jenny, while Crane, Joe, and Danny hold down the fort. This is what happens when Abbie gets dressed up for a night on the town...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Girls' Night Out

Ichabod sat in the living room chatting with Joe. It was nice to have another man to talk to. Like Ichabod, Joe was a soldier, a warrior. And like Ichabod, Joe was in love with a Mills sister. However, unlike Ichabod, Joe was in a loving, passionate, fun-filled relationship with the younger Mills sister, Jenny. Ichabod's love was still unrequited.

"God's wounds! I've battled monsters, come back from death, entered Purgatory more than once, how is it I can't tell the Lieutenant how I feel?" he thought.

"What's up, Crane?" Joe said. "You look like you swallowed a lemon whole!"

"Oh, nothing, Master Joe, just thinking," he replied.

Joe chuckled at the look on Crane's face. He knew what the problem was, and so did everyone else… except seemingly Abbie. Or maybe she did…

"Well, it can't have been a pleasant thought. Care to share?"

Grimly, Ichabod shook his head. "No, thank you, Master Joe, just my usual woolgathering."

Just then, the door rang. It was Danny and Sophie. Crane still didn't care much for Abbie's boss, but he tolerated him. He hated to admit it, but he was insanely jealous of the Lieutenant's former flame. Just the thought of any other man touching his beloved Abigail, caressing her, murmuring her name…

"Hey, Crane, you gonna get the door?"

Shaking his head, Ichabod jumped up and answered the door. For the sake of Abbie and her career, when Sophie and Jenny had suggested a girls' night out on the town, Ichabod consented (albeit grudgingly) to a guys' night in with Master Corbin and Agent Reynolds. The plan was to order in Chinese, break out the whiskey and rum (the good stuff), and probably engage in a not-so-friendly chess tournament… Game on, as they say.

When Crane opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of Agent Reynolds in a cream-colored polo shirt and khaki trousers, which was a departure from his usual sartorial choice: a dark, tailored suit, well-cut, with white shirt and tie. However, Agent Foster's outfit was even more of a change from the usual, non-descript trousers and jackets worn by most of the female agents, including his Abbie.

Agent Foster looked lovely in a form-fitting, black dress (he supposed you would call it that, although he called it more of a glorified long shirt) that played up her fit figure and long, flowing dark hair. He had still not gotten accustomed to the clothing women wore in this day and age…

"Won't you come in? Agent Foster, you look very festive this evening," Ichabod offered, waving the pair in. "Please make yourselves comfortable. Miss Jenny and Miss Mills will be ready shortly. May I offer you a cold beverage?"

Smiling, the agents came in and greeted Joe.

"Thanks, Crane! What do you have?" replied Sophie.

"Ah, we have whiskey, rum, cola, sparkling water, and orange juice."

"I'll have a rum and Coke," she replied.

"Whiskey, neat, for me, Crane, thanks," Danny offered.

As Ichabod was leaving the kitchen with their guests' drinks, he heard the Lieutenant and Miss Jenny descending the stairs. He got back just in time to see the Mills sisters entering the living area. Thankfully, he had a good grip on the glasses.

"God's wounds, Lieutenant!" It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. As if on cue, everyone turned to Ichabod, mouths slack. It barely registered, however. His gaze was fixed on Abbie, HIS Abbie, in a tight red mini dress, her long legs, deceptively long for such a tiny woman, seeming to go on for miles, thanks to a pair of high-heeled black pumps. As his eyes traveled from her feet back up to her face, it registered that every curve he had imagined in his most fevered dream was on display. From her shapely legs to her rounded bottom, tiny waist, full breasts, and sculpted collarbones, nothing escaped his intense, searching gaze. Nothing would erase this from his memory, either, regardless of whether or not it was eidetic.

"Well, hello to you, too, Crane," Abbie replied, chuckling. "I'm not sure if that's good or bad!"

"Hey, Abs, how you doing," Danny interjected, looking at Crane with a malevolent glare before coming over to kiss Abbie on the cheek. "You look awesome!"

Smiling, Abbie patted him on the arm and went over to Agent Foster. "Thanks, Danny. Agent Foster, you clean up pretty good, too!" she joked.

The two women had grown closer since working together, and they shared a brief hug. "Yeah, Mills, you look hot!" she said, giving Abbie a quick wink. "You, too, Jenny! Man, I'm gonna have my hands full keeping the guys away from you two!"

Jenny, as was her custom, stood to the side taking in the whole scene, smirking slightly. She had on a short, turquoise dress with strappy silver sandals and silver and turquoise dangle earrings. However, at the other woman's praise, she smiled genuinely and went over and gave her a brief hug. "Uh, I wouldn't talk! You look amazing yourself!"

Throughout all this, Ichabod couldn't take his eyes off Abbie. It was bad enough he had to see Agent Reynolds pawing her, but to think other men would be drooling over his Lieutenant, it was unbearable. His disapproval and discomfort showed plainly on his face.

"Crane! Earth to Crane! What is wrong with you?" Abbie bit out, wondering what the hell was wrong with her roommate-slash-friend-slash-colleague. He had been acting strangely lately, but him glowering at her when they were all just trying to have fun was too much.

Blushing slightly, Ichabod attempted to compose himself, his spine stiffening, blue eyes narrowing, hands twitching agitatedly by his side. "Nothing is wrong, I assure you, Miss Mills."

Abbie's eyes narrowed, studying his expression. If she didn't know better… no, she was imagining things. But still, the way he looked at her when he didn't think she was looking…

She walked slowly toward him, her eyes never leaving his face. By this time, Danny was looking confused and somewhat suspicious, while Sophie, Jenny, and Joe were fighting back grins as they waited for the show to begin.

Abbie stopped right in front of Ichabod. "You don't like my outfit, do you?" she finally said. "Is that it?"

Fixing his eyes straight ahead, not daring to look into her eyes (those lovely chocolate eyes, now framed with gold shimmers that brought out the gold flecks in her eyes, and those lips, now perfectly delineated with a pale pink gloss). "I don't think it seemly, a woman of your stature, going out dressed thusly, to be honest," he retorted, his displeasure evident in his clipped tones.

Abbie couldn't believe it. A woman of her stature? What was she, Mother Teresa?

"Crane, I don't know what your problem is. This dress cost me a small fortune, and furthermore, I think it looks just fine, and so does everyone else." As if on cue, everyone nodded their heads in assent.

By then, she was standing directly in front of him, practically toe to toe. She had to crane her neck up to look him in the eye, and finally, he made eye contact with her.

"Lieutenant, I am just concerned, that is all. I know you are a woman of the highest virtue, but I just think it unseemly to dress in such a manner, in barely a scrap of fabric." With that, he fixed his gaze once more on a spot on the far wall above her head.

Abbie shook her head, not believing this was happening. "Really, Crane? I'll have you know my dress is perfectly fine, and it's no less revealing than Sophie or Jenny's."

Before he could stop himself, Crane replied, "I'm not talking about Miss Jenny or Agent Foster. My concern is with you." In for a penny, in for a pound, Ichabod thought. By now, everyone was staring in disbelief at the exchange going on between the two roommates. Danny, who by now understood what was going on, was glaring at Crane. Ichabod didn't care.

"I don't see how you can feel comfortable walking around with, with, your double jugs practically exposed!" giving the hem of Abbie's dress a slight tug. With that, everyone's jaws again dropped, and Jenny and Joe exchanged a look, with Jenny breaking out into hysterical laughter.

"I don't see what is so funny, Miss Jenny. I assure you this is most serious," Ichabod said through clenched teeth.

For her part, Abbie managed to keep herself from decking Crane right then and there. She was still halfway in shock that her partner, her ROOMMATE, actually grabbed the hem of her dress and started pulling on it!

"Crane, have you lost your mind? You can't just start readjusting my clothes like that," she barked, hands clenched at her side. "You need to stop. Right. Now."

Ichabod saw he was fighting a losing battle. In desperation, he tried another approach. Stepping back and bowing slightly, he looked directly into Abbie's eyes. "Abbie, are you sure you want to go out tonight? We are ordering Chinese and will be engaging in a spirited chess tournament. Surely you would not pass up an opportunity to yet again show your prowess."

She always knew when it was serious. When he called her Abbie, there was no doubt. He really didn't want her to go.

"Crane, we won't be gone all night. I promise you, Agent Foster and Jenny will keep me in line. You don't have to worry about me running off with the bartender to Cancun," she joked, trying to reassure him. She was all he had, she realized that, and anyone or anything that came between them he considered a threat, not just to their calling, but to their relationship. Could you call it a relationship?

Flushing even deeper, Crane merely nodded. He would have to trust her. Not that he didn't, but there was so much at stake, he just couldn't lose her.

Sighing, Abbie took in the look of resignation, worry, and defeat on her friend's face. It hurt her to see him like that, so much so, that for a moment, she almost told Jenny and Sophie to go on without her. But she decided against it. She deserved to have a life, just like anyone else, and the chance for some female bonding time was rare - there was usually not much downtime in the fight against evil. Still, she felt for him. Without thinking, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. His eyes widened slightly, and if possible, the red in his cheeks actually deepened. Ichabod smiled briefly at her.

"Godspeed, ladies, please enjoy yourselves. We will 'hold down the fort,' so to speak, as you collectively break the hearts of all the male inhabitants of Sleepy Hollow."

As they left, Ichabod's eyes never left the Lieutenant, even though he felt, rather than saw, Agent Reynolds staring at him.

The night passed rather quickly. Agent Reynolds didn't say anything about what transpired, and Ichabod found himself feeling very grateful to the man. He had made a complete fool of himself and had all but declared his undying love for the Lieutenant in front of her family, colleagues, and former beau. What was he thinking? It was as if seeing his Abbie dressed in such a manner had rerouted the impulses traveling across his synapses, causing his brain to malfunction in the most humiliating fashion. God's wounds! He actually grabbed her clothing, practically assaulting her person! It was a wonder she didn't use her considerable fighting and defensive skills to lay him low.

He tried to concentrate on the game. He was a much more skilled player than the other men, although Agent Reynolds turned out to be a formidable strategist and foe. How fitting, he thought, that we battle over the chess match and over the same woman? Still, he prevailed, and the men retired to the living area, sharing war stories and regaling each other with ever-increasing tall tales of battle.

Around 2 AM, the front door opened. The three women entered, smiling broadly and laughing. It was almost worth it, worrying about her, hoping she got home safely, wondering if the men at the venue were treating her respectfully, just to see the smile on her face. She didn't get a chance to smile often, he thought, mentally chiding himself for selfishly wanting to deny her an opportunity to be happy and carefree. He couldn't stifle her. He wouldn't. She was much too precious to him.

"Hey, did you miss us?" Jenny yelled across the room, crossing to throw her arms around Joe and plant a big kiss on his cheek. Ichabod could tell from her carriage and her demeanor that she had enjoyed herself… and had imbibed freely.

Agent Foster and Miss Mills came in and greeted the men (albeit a little less enthusiastically than the younger sister). Since Agent Reynolds was Agent Foster's ride home, they said their goodbyes and headed home. Soon after, Jenny and Joe left as well. Abbie and Ichabod were silent, neither one really knowing what to say. Abbie broke the silence finally.

"Hey, I'm thirsty. Come in the kitchen with me and tell me how your night was."

Ichabod followed her into the kitchen, trying hard not to notice the slight sway of her perfectly-proportioned hips as she walked ahead of him. From the moment he first saw her, he was cognizant of her beauty, but lately, its effect on him was astounding. Barely a night went by when he didn't think of her; she was the last thing he thought of when he fell asleep, and the first thing he thought of upon waking. In between, she often haunted his dreams. It was those nights that greeting her the next day as she gets her morning coffee is the hardest; his dream Abbie is drastically different than the real one…

"Penny for your thoughts, Crane. I don't know what's gotten into you, but you have been acting hella strange lately. And that's saying something," she quipped, taking a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and hopping up to sit on the counter.

As she opened the bottle and took a drink, Ichabod stepped closer to her. He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eye. His best friend. His salvation, truth be told, in this strange, confusing time. His rock. And he repaid her kindness, loyalty, and generosity with his overbearing actions, as well as the lustful, longing thoughts that plagued him night and day. She deserved better.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. It was unspeakable of me to lay hands upon you in such a disgraceful, ungentlemanly manner earlier this evening. Please rest assured it shall never happen again. You always have my utmost respect, and I value our friendship above all else. I humbly ask for your forgiveness."

Abbie shook her head. This man, she thought. This wonderful, crazy man. What was she going to do with him?

"Crane, look at me," she demanded, taking his chin in her hand and tipping his face up to hers. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on. You're really starting to freak me out a little bit. You've been acting so strangely lately. Is it something I've said or done?"

"No, Lieutenant, never! Please do not take my behavior as any reflection of anything you have said or done. It would be churlish of me to suggest otherwise," he countered hastily, taking her hands in his.

It was now or never, he decided.

"Lieutenant, Abbie, I will be frank. I hold your company in the highest esteem. I'm sure you know that."

Squeezing his hands, she smiled up at him. "I know, Crane, I feel the same way, too. Our bond is something I cherish, and I don't want anything to ever get in its way."

"Abbie, that's not what I'm trying to say." He swallowed hard and briefly closed his eyes, re-opening them and looking her square in the eye.

"I'm in love with you, Abbie," he whispered softly. "I have been for some time now, and I never had the courage to tell you."

Abbie wasn't sure what to say. How did SHE feel? As she sat trying to gauge how she was feeling, she realized she was over-analyzing it. She smiled at him and reached out and briefly touched his cheek. He closed his eyes, looking for all the world like a man who had just entered Paradise.

"I don't know what to say, Crane. I guess a part of me is not surprised, but I guess I am surprised to actually hear you say it. I'm not really sure how I feel, to be honest. I feel at peace when you're around, happy. I don't know…" she shrugged, not really knowing how to react to the jumbled feelings that were threatening to overtake her.

When he opened his eyes, he locked eyes with her for what seemed like an eternity. He could see the confusion clouding her beautiful face, but something else was there, too. An acknowledgement, a recognition, perhaps, of something… He dared not hope, but hope blossomed in his heart when he saw the smile spreading slowly across her face.

"I guess if I were to be honest, I'm happy. Even from that first day we met, there was something I couldn't put my finger on. It was weird, but it was like, when I was in your presence, there was a comfort, a peace, contentment even, that I couldn't explain. Even having you living here with me, I feel… complete somehow."

She reached out to him, pulling him closer so he was standing between her thighs. Softly, she placed her hands on either side of his face.

"I don't know if I feel exactly the same way, Ichabod, and I won't lie to you. But I want you in my life, in whatever way, shape or form that takes, and I want you to be happy. I want to be happy, too. Do you think we could be happy together?" she asked.

The love he had for this petite dynamo of a woman threatened to overtake him. There was hope! Whatever he had endured, whatever twisting paths had led him to this amazing creature, it was all worth it.

" My love, my treasure, if you would allow it, I would spend the rest of my days on this earth, and in whatever life awaits us beyond, doing my utmost to show you the care, love, and adoration you deserve," he exclaimed, taking her into his arms.

For several long moments, they remained in each others' arms, with Ichabod nestled squarely between her smooth thighs, she seated on the cool kitchen counter. They breathed in the other's unique smells: he, the smell of her perfume, the coconut oil she used on her hair and skin, and the intoxicating scent that he couldn't describe, only that it was uniquely her; she, the smell of his wool peacoat, the fresh, clean scent of his hair, and the musky, male scent that was uniquely Crane.

He stroked her back and her hair, murmuring soft words of love and desire in her ear. She held him closer, so close that she could feel his heartbeat and his maleness. She could tell that he was aroused; working and living in such close quarters, it was not the first time. They never acknowledged it; they were both adults, and those things happened, especially when one was living a celibate life.

Still, this time it was different. She knew it was because of her that he felt this way. It wasn't an autonomic response. It wasn't a fluke. It was because she was here, close to him. It was because he loved her. And it was okay. It was more than okay. She realized she wanted this, too.

"Crane, Ichabod, look at me."

Somewhat fearfully, he obliged.

"I want you to show me how you feel," she finally said, her half-lidded eyes saying more than her words.

Silently, with a small smile, he lifted her off the countertop. She put her legs around his waist, and he carried her down the hall to his room. How many nights had he dreamed of this? How many mornings had he awakened, stiff still, but drenched in sweat? How many times had he thanked the heavens that she slept upstairs, away from his tossing and turning, unable to hear him cry out her name?

Gently laying her on the bed, he was suddenly thankful for her relative lack of clothing. As she lay there, he leaned over her, lovingly taking in her breathtaking beauty. With her hair fanned out over his pillow, her generous curves within reach of his greedy hands, he wondered what he had ever done to deserve this woman.

For her part, Abbie's head was spinning. An hour ago, she was coming home after drinks and dancing with her sister and her friend. Coming home to her roommate, her boss, and her sister's boyfriend. Now, she was sprawled out on said roommate's bed, with him looking like he's getting ready to devour her. She had caught glimpses of that look, but he always hid it away when he caught her looking, so quickly that she wasn't even sure it was there. Now there was no question. He was drinking her in like she was an oasis in the desert. I guess that's an apt comparison, she thought. She had been his everything since he woke up in this strange time and place, his anchor, his rock. She realized he had become the same for her…

He quickly stripped off his clothes, never breaking eye contact with her. When he finally stood before her, naked as the day he was born, Abbie took her time looking at him. She had seen him in various stages of undress, but him standing for her, proudly naked and aroused, he was, quite frankly, magnificent. His blue eyes were almost black in the dimness of the room, his irises completely swallowed by the black pupils. His long, lithe body, more that of a dancer than a warrior, was beautiful. Her eyes widened slightly as she took in his girth and length; the leanness of his body did not suggest the heft of his manhood. His breath was quicker, more forceful, the only sound in the room.

Reaching towards her, he gently removed her shoes, laying them on the floor by the bed. She sat up and slipped the dress over her head, only the lacy bra and panties that matched her bright red dress remaining. Ichabod's breath caught in his throat as he looked down on her. She laid back on the pillows and held out her arms to him. Without hesitation, he reached for her, positioning himself between her soft bronze thighs.

When he finally kissed her, they both let out a collective moan. He brushed his lips across hers tentatively at first, but when she opened those perfect, pink lips, he plunged his tongue into her warm, sweet mouth. The kiss deepened until they were both panting and moaning, hands travelling over each other's body, gripping and caressing with an almost feverish intensity. Breaking the kiss, Ichabod looked into Abbie's eyes, gauging the emotions flickering in those beautiful brown orbs. Desire. Passion. No hesitation or shame. No confusion. He realized she was his now. Without breaking eye contact, he sat up and quickly helped her shed her remaining clothes. God's wounds, she was delightful. Stunning. Intoxicating. All the years of study and an eidetic memory did not grant him the ability to find the exact word to describe her glory. From her shapely legs to the soft curls at their juncture, the smooth belly dipping into a waist so small he could span it with both hands, to full, rounded breasts that just begged to be caressed, she was glorious.

Without hesitating, he ran his fingers slowly and softly up her calf to her thigh, then over her hips to the mounds of her breasts. He continued onto the graceful neck and up to her full, pouting lips. How many nights had he dreamed of those lips on his, licking and nipping all over his body? He slipped one of his long fingers between her slightly parted lips, and he felt his gut clench when she nearly closed her eyes and begun sucking. He felt like he could reach his climax just by the sensation of her sucking his finger; he could only imagine if she did that to other parts of his body…

Taking back his hand, he slid down her body and began retracing the path his hand had previously traveled with his lips. The sounds coming from Abbie's lips almost had him undone; how had he never noticed the husky tremor in her voice? He nipped her thigh and positioned her leg over his shoulder. He then took his prize; how often had he dreamed of kissing her nether lips, of tasting her desire? Even in the Archives, as they were deep in solving the latest supernatural occurrence, his mind would wander. What would she taste like? What sounds would she make? Now he knew, and his fantasies paled in comparison to reality. Her voice had gone from deep, throaty moans to high, keening whimpers. And the more he lapped at her sex, the more they overflowed with her honey. He dipped first one finger, then another inside, feeling her body constricting around them. He was glad he was laying over her; had he been standing, the sensation would have certainly brought him to his knees.

He didn't know how long he kept this up; alternating lips and fingers, kisses and sucking, until Abbie was in a frenzy, panting his name over and over again, thighs quivering, fingers tangling in his hair, grasping at him as if her life depended on it. He just kept drinking her in, taking her pleasure and giving it back tenfold, moaning as he plunged his face deeper into her, feeling her contractions starting, building, as he shoved his tongue further and further, her cup overflowing, drenching his beard and mustache, her insides squeezing his tongue. He felt almost faint with desire, his moans almost matching hers in their intensity.

As Abbie felt the first tremors of her orgasm, she marveled that this man, this strange, lovely man from the 18th century, really had game! Who would've thought? Ichabod, buddy, she thought, you've been holding out on me! Then, the sensation overtook her in waves, like nothing she had ever experienced before. Was it their bond? Was it him? Or was it just magic? Whatever it was, she wanted more. LOTS more…

Ichabod slid up her body, both of them drenched in sweat, as he positioned himself firmly between her thighs. He was too far gone to be gentle, and she seemed to revel in his firm, almost harsh grip. He reached under her thighs, grabbing her hips and pushing her legs upward as he thrust fully into her. They both cried out from pleasure; she was so small! In the back of his mind, he hoped he wasn't hurting her, but it felt too good to stop.

For her part, she had never felt so filled before. Not just from his size, but from the swelling of love she felt for him. Wait a minute! Did I just say I loved him? Where did that come from? These thoughts flickered through her mind for just a second, then they were consumed by the FEEL of him. How did she ever live without this?

He thrust deeper and deeper each time, completely filling her over and over again. He felt the beginnings of her second orgasm and looked into her eyes as the spasms started to overtake her. She was so beautiful! And the look of ecstasy on her face far exceeded any of his dreams; her beautiful face flushed, eyes almost closed, and her breath coming out in ragged gasps between those lovely, rosy lips, made even rosier and plumper by his earlier ministrations. Then her eyes opened fully, and she looked at him and smiled. "Ichabod," she whispered. "I love you, too."

Did he hear her correctly? Or was it his lustful longings? But she was smiling at him, then her lids fluttering closed as her pleasure overtook her, screaming his name over and over again, her body convulsing erratically, squeezing him even tighter, if that was possible. This took him over the edge as he gave himself over to the tide of ecstasy, his seed, his heart and his soul pouring into her as he screams her name in response, throwing back his head as the waves of pleasure washed over him again and again. Collapsing heavily on her, they both lay breathing heavily, trembling under the onslaught of passion.

Finally, he lifted his upper body, balancing on his elbows, and looked down at her, still intimately joined with her. He never wanted to leave her. Ever. She reached up and pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. They both started laughing simultaneously.

"Okay, what's so funny?" she asked, smiling up at him.

If possible, his smile widened even further, one of his eyebrows shooting up. "I'm just thinking I am greatly enjoying our partnership. It is proving to be most fruitful."

This made her laugh even more. "I see you're enjoying yourself quite a bit!"

A little smirk twisted his lip upward. "Well, I only 'enjoyed' myself once, but unless I am mistaken, you 'enjoyed' yourself at least twice, milady…"

She smacked his arm playfully. "I'll get you for this!"

His smile faded and was replaced by a serious look. "You said you love me. Was that the passion talking, or can it be true?"

She smiled lovingly at him. "I guess that was the catalyst, in a way, for me to realize how I really feel. Yes, I love you, Ichabod Crane." She pulled him down into a gentle kiss. "You make me crazy sometimes, but you make me happy. I'm so glad we found each other."

Tears began to form in his eyes. "I've waited centuries to find you, and here you are. And I am so grateful. You are my love, my heart, and my life."

He rolled over, pulling her close to his side. Abbie sighed in contentment. After a while, Ichabod heard her steady breathing, indicating she had fallen asleep. He soon followed. For the first time in a long time, he slept peacefully. His dream was realized and laying next to him.


End file.
